


you probably couldn’t see for the lights (but you were staring straight at me)

by endlessnighttimesky



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Fluff, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 16:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1556897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessnighttimesky/pseuds/endlessnighttimesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wolf knows. It always does. It's just a matter of getting Frank to realize it, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you probably couldn’t see for the lights (but you were staring straight at me)

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, I forgot about Bob. Considering this is set not long after Gerard became sober, he should be there, but I hadn't planned for that when I started writing this, and once I decided when this would be set it was too late to write him in, so he's just... missing. Sorry, Bob.
> 
> Title by _Arctic Monkeys_.

It’s hard, not having a territory to change in. Years of touring have forced them to get accustomed, but that doesn’t mean it’s not annoying, or uncomfortable. Wolves are territorial, they like having their own space to control, need the safety of home turf.

Gerard supposes they have something resembling a territory back in Jersey, but with being away so much, they couldn't blame another pack for claiming it.

Though it sets them all on edge, adds a nervous tinge to their scents, it's different for Gerard. As the alpha, he's responsible for them, has to keep them safe not only when they change, but at all other times, too. Just before the moon, it’s his job to keep them calm and distract them from the pull of the moon, and after, it's him who has to make sure they rest (and heal, if they've somehow gotten hurt during the night of the moon, but that mostly just applies to Frank).

§ § §

"You're the best alpha I've ever had," Frank mumbles, head bowed and hands clasped in his lap as Gerard cleans out the scrape on his shoulder.

"You're the most injury-prone pack member I've ever had," Gerard counters, mopping up the last of the blood with a peroxide-soaked cotton ball.

"What can I say, I'm bad at judging distances." Frank goes for a shrug, but the sting of the alcohol reminds him that it's probably not such a good idea. It probably says something about the quality of Frank's attention span.

"You ran into a tree, Frank," Gerard says, the exasperation in his voice tinged with a hint of fondness. It doesn't stop him from rolling his eyes, though.

"Yeah, but that's what I mean," Frank goes on, voice still slurred from the exhaustion of transitioning. "Before you, when I did stupid shit, I was always left to deal with the aftermath on my own. You still take care of me, even when it's my own fault."

Frank doesn't usually talk about his old pack, and when he does, it's almost always confined to the hazy periods of fatigue just after he changes back to his human form, when he isn't really in control of what comes out of his mouth. 

From what he's told them, though - or told Gerard, really, but Frank has given him permission to relay the information to Mikey and Ray, too - his old alpha wasn't as much an alpha as he was a self-elected leader, and one with a massive lack of empathy and an even bigger superiority complex.

"I'll always take care of you, Frankie," Gerard says, smoothing a square of gauze over the scrape, biting off lines of tape to secure the edges to Frank's skin. He lets his touch linger for a moment, thumb stroking over the skin around the tape. "You're my pack."

He feels like there's something else he should say, beyond that, as if there are more reasons for Gerard to take care of Frank than simply Frank being pack. And sure, there are - Frank’s a human, and a friend, and he deserves to have people who care about him, but there's something more. Gerard can feel it, just like he can feel the comfort and safety of having Frank in his arms as he leans back against Gerard's chest, head tipped back to rest on Gerard's shoulder.

"Thank you," Frank mumbles, eyes sliding shut with the need to rest. Frank has the weakest body of all of them, so it always takes him a while longer to adjust to his human form after being a strong, healthy wolf for a night. Gerard doesn't mind, though - it's what he's here for. He's pretty tired himself, anyway.

§ § §

Frank’s still sore when he wakes up. His skin feels one size too small, and his muscles are aching in that way they only do after a change, like they've been stretched out too far but also not enough. His bones creak in protest when he tries to move, so he gives up on that and settles for staying in Gerard’s arms for a while more. The wolf in him tells him it's where he belongs, sending warmth and comfort through his entire body, making him sigh blissfully and nuzzle further into Gerard's neck, breathing in his scent. It smells like home.

Somewhere behind him, on the other side of the table, Mikey clears his throat. Frank cuddles closer to Gerard as if to make a point.

"Didn't Brian make a rule about PDA on the bus?" Mikey asks in his casual monotone, as if unaware of how much of a dick he's being.

"Brian can go fuck himself," Frank mutters into the hollow of Gerard's throat.

Mikey laughs, and Gerard stirs a little, but Frank just smoothes a hand down his side and mumbles, "Go back to sleep."

§ § §

It's been half an hour since Gerard left with Worm to get more coffee, and Frank feels like someone just dropped him off the roof of a skyscraper. Twice.

The pain is a little like the one after a transformation, this stretchy kind of ache that settles deep within your bones, one you can’t get rid of through any other way than waiting it out.

At least that's what Frank thinks. The wolf knows better - as usual - but it's halfway between two moons and Frank isn't in touch with it enough to know what to do, is only aware of the fact that there is a solution, but not what it is.

When Gerard comes back, the pain fades away too slowly for Frank to even notice - or maybe too quickly, he’s not really sure. All he knows is that one minute it’s there, then he gets distracted by something - Gerard, probably - and the next time he thinks about it, it’s gone.

The wolf knows, though. It always does. It's just a matter of getting Frank to realize it, too.

§ § §

Gerard doesn't know where Frank is, only that he's not with him and it hurts. His chest feels like it's filled with barbed wire - every breath hurts, scratching at his insides as if the wolf is trying to claw its way out of his chest. His legs are restless with the need to run, to track Frank's scent and find him, claim him.

Shaking away that thought - _he doesn’t belong to you, Gerard, get over yourself_ \- he tries to distract himself by drawing and smoking, curling up in the corner of the couch with a sketchbook, his pencil case, and a pack of Marlboro Reds, but all that results in is a slightly charred drawing of Frank walking into a forest, back turned, and that's just so far down the list of comforting things that Gerard can't help but make a ball out of it and throw it away.

It hits Mikey’s shoulder with a whiff of burnt paper trailing along, as well as a less specific scent, one that speaks of fear and pain, reminding him of Gerard's first few days of sobriety. It makes him look up, and what he sees is the dictionary definition of miserable.

"Hey," he says and walks around the table to settle beside Gerard, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him to his chest. "What's up?"

"I don't know what's happening," Gerard says, sounding like he's just on the verge of tears, or maybe already crying.

"Hey," Mikey says again, slow and calm. "Look at me." With one hand soft on Gerard’s jaw, he guides his brother’s face away from where it's buried in Mikey's t-shirt and up instead, so he can look him in the eye. "Breathe."

"It hurts," Gerard says, and his voice reminds Mikey a little of when Gerard went through withdrawal, the first fifteen hours they spent on a plane back to Jersey, Gerard shaking and sweating out all the drugs in his system under a blanket in the window seat.

"Okay," Mikey says, looking Gerard in the eye. "Feel free to hate me for asking this, but have you taken something? 'Cause if you - "

"No," Gerard answers immediately, shaking his head. He can't even blame Mikey for jumping to that conclusion - it's the most logical explanation, given the circumstances. But no, there's nothing. Not a single pill, not a glass or line of anything. He’s the cleanest he’s ever been, and he still feels like someone just ran him over with a truck.

Except then it fades away, slowly buy surely, and when Frank walks onto the bus after Ray and Worm, it's as if it never happened.

Mikey's still wrapped up around him, though, and his eyes are a little puffy from crying, so inevitably the first thing Frank does before even kicking off his Chucks is to ask if he's okay.

"Yeah," Gerard answers, giving a weak but honest smile as he wipes the last of the tears away. He feels warm now, safe and happy, and Mikey's giving him a look but he's too busy smiling at Frank to notice.

Releasing his hold on Gerard, Mikey asks if he'll be alright and gets a nod and a grateful smile in reply before he walks off to talk to Ray, leaving his spot empty for Frank to fill.

When he looks over his shoulder a while later, they're still cuddled up on the couch, Frank between Gerard's legs as Gerard watches him play Halo.

When Gerard looks up, Mikey smiles at him, giving a slight nod to Frank. Gerard just smiles and shrugs, the tiniest hint of a blush tinting his cheeks red.

§ § §

On the day of the moon, Frank wakes up in Gerard's bunk.

They've shared beds before. Maybe more when Gerard still drank, but they still do it, on hotel nights with queen beds and in the back lounge after late night conversations about the universe, or the meaning of life, or whatever has caught their interest that particular night. Sometimes it's just comic books.

Anyway, it's not uncommon for Frank to stumble out of Gerard's bunk in the morning instead of his own. It's one of those things that just happen, without any planning. A habit, almost.

What's less of a habit is for Frank to completely forget how he got there.

The last thing he remembers is falling asleep in his own bunk, some punk record blaring in his headphones. Next thing he knows, there's a body wrapped around him, an arm sneaking around his waist and a leg thrown over his hip, pinning him to the mattress. And it's not Gerard who's crawled into Frank's bunk, this time, because the curtain is on the wrong side for that.

Gerard is still asleep, breathing softly over the top of Frank's head, rustling his hair. He's warm, heating up the entire bunk, and he doesn't even flinch when Frank wriggles his still-cold toes in under his calf. Too hot for a human, and suddenly Frank remembers. The moon.

As soon as he thinks about it, he can feel it. The itch under his skin, making him ache for open fields and deserted forests. It's less intense than usual, though, and much easier to handle, suppressed by this strange sense of tranquility, of relief, like he's lived his entire life with a piece of himself missing, only to finally have found it.

And that's when it clicks. There's no massive revelation, no epiphany, just... _oh_. And suddenly he knows, and he smiles, pressing further into Gerard's embrace and closing his eyes for another few hours of sleep.

§ § §

It's nearing noon when Gerard finally wanders out of the bunks, scratching at his stomach as he yawns and cracks his neck. His eyes are still halfway closed, almost falling shut as he pours himself a cup of coffee. 

He looks exactly like Mikey did a couple of hours ago, when he pulled himself out of the bunks accompanied by an impressive bed-head and day-old eyeliner. Frank had just woken up - it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to not just cuddle back into Gerard's warm embrace, but he needed to take a piss and eat, so he shoved his pillow into Gerard's arms when his fingers started twitching for something to hold and forced himself to go to the bathroom.

Now, he's at the table with a bowl of Lucky Charms and his own cup of coffee, Mikey curled up across from him, fingers tapping away on his Sidekick. Frank doesn't really blame him - they all need distractions on days like these, something to keep their minds off the pull of the moon. Frank usually deals with it by making someone else distract him, mostly through hanging around Ray in the back studio or Gerard when he draws in the dinette, but then Gerard basically falls down onto the couch, leaning on Frank as he downs half his coffee in one go, and Frank remembers.

He doesn't know if it's the proximity or simply the sight of Gerard that does it, but the same feelings of peace and calmness that he'd felt while crammed into Gerard's bunk are washing over him again, soothing the itch under his skin.

At first he's not sure it's mutual, since he has no idea how this stuff feels from an alpha's perspective, and Gerard can be kind of oblivious sometimes, but suddenly Gerard is lowering his mug to the table, staring into space for a good minute or so before he turns to look at Frank.

Who's blushing, for some stupid reason. And Mikey's putting away his Sidekick - and, seriously, how is it even possible for him to know before either of them did? Because he's grinning - fucking grinning, and Gerard is still staring at Frank, but there's this softness in his eyes that somehow makes everything less intense, even if it should probably be the other way around.

"This isn't a dream, right?" Gerard asks, and Mikey is laughing, but the noise is distant in Frank's ears, like he's not really there at all.

How he makes his hand move, Frank's not really sure, but he pinches Gerard, and Gerard says, "Ow," and flinches.

"Nope," Frank says. "Not a dream."

On the other side of the table, Mikey is grabbing his Sidekick and getting up from the couch.

"I'm gonna let you sort this shit out," he says. "Just please have your clothes on by the time I get back."

When he's sure the curtain between the bunks and the lounge is closed, Gerard scoots closer to Frank, gaze lowered as he watches Frank's legs spread to make space for him. Reaching out, he lets one hand land on Frank's hip, the other on his knee, and then Frank is lifting his head with his fingers splayed across Gerard's jaw, making him look up into those huge, warm eyes, only slightly hidden by a mess of black bangs.

Gerard just has to kiss him. So he does, and he can tell right from the start that this is going to be the best kiss of his life. It starts out tentative, just a chaste press of lips, but it's not long before he feels Frank's tongue poking out, just the tip dragging over his bottom lip at first, before Frank is licking his mouth open and drawing noises from his throat, only to eat them up and swallow them.

"Wanted to do this for so long," he breathes, just before he sinks his teeth into Gerard's bottom lip and pulls.

"Me too," Gerard says, the words coming out as more of a whine than anything resembling a sentence.

"Didn't realize 'til this morning," Frank whispers. His eyes are still closed, and their foreheads are pressed together, letting Gerard feel his breath over his face whenever he talks. "I don't remember how I got there, but I woke up in your bunk. You were holding me, and I felt so safe, like nothing could ever hurt me. Like you'd never let anything hurt me. I even forgot about the moon."

Gerard breathes in, inhaling Frank's scent, sweat and coffee and sugar and sleep, all of it clinging and mixing with that other scent that hides below it all, the one Gerard could follow for miles. Except there's another note, something softer, calmer, and it takes him a while to realize that it's not really Frank's scent at all, but _theirs_. _His_.

"You smell like me," Gerard says in a low, soft voice, like Frank didn't already know, like he hasn't carried Gerard's scent with him for months now.

"I know," Frank says, throat rumbling under the press of Gerard's lips, barely able to get the words out.

"You're mine," Gerard mumbles, fingers digging possessively into Frank's ribs.

"I'm yours," Frank agrees, bringing one hand up to cup around Gerard's jaw and guide their lips together. They kiss until their mouths are swollen, until they forget about everything but themselves and each other, even the moon.

§ § §

Hours later, the moon has finally risen, its white glow gleaming where it reflects in the fur of four wolves.

Gerard is sleek and black with greenish eyes and paws that barely make a sound as he pads through the woods, making sure it's safe for his pack to spend the night there. A few yards behind him are Mikey and Frank, walking side by side, with Ray a few strides behind, since he's the strongest of them all. 

As a wolf, Frank is small but muscular - more so than Mikey, who’s even leaner than his brother, almost bordering on skinny. Frank’s fur is a warm brown, with black patches along his sides and a dark brown over his head and ears, while Mikey's fur is much lighter and interspersed with gray. Ray is a kind of reddish-brown, with dark eyes and a thick tail.

He guards their backs while Gerard takes the lead, scoping out the area to make sure they’re not encroaching on anyone’s territory, and if they are, that the local pack knows they’re just passing through.

When he deems the place safe, Frank is the first one to take off. Ray goes after him at a slower pace, leaving Gerard alone with Mikey, who’s been giving his brother looks all day. Gerard has tried his best to ignore them, but they’re alone now and at least it’s better to have this conversation as wolves, because being human means using words, which equals a greater risk of making a complete idiot of himself, something Gerard’s always happy to avoid.

Turning to face Mikey, Gerard’s not sure what to brace himself for, but then Mikey just sighs in that fond-but-exasperated way of his, and Gerard knows everything is okay.

 _Things will be different now_ , Gerard thinks, looking at Mikey, but Mikey's not looking at him. His eyes are focused on something behind him and Gerard spins around, ready to pounce, but then there's a blur of brown fur coming at him, accompanied by a familiar yelp as a pair of paws knock him to the ground.

Gerard knocks Frank off and over with a swift movement, rolling them so that he's on top with Frank below him, belly and throat showing, the most vulnerable position a wolf can take on. He's panting happily, though, pawing lightly at Gerard's chest and licking around his muzzle, and when Mikey passes he bumps his nose against Gerard's side before he gives him a look that says, _I don't think it will._


End file.
